More Than Words
by Nimue47
Summary: How to get rid of a persuer. [HarmMac]


More Than Words  
  
(c) Sousse, Tunisia, 16-18/9/2002  
  
Author: Nimue  
  
Classification: Harm/Mac  
  
Disclaimer: Unfortunately they ain't mine.   
  
Author's Note: First of all Happy (very belated) Birthday, Coff! The idea to this fic came to me when Zab and I were chatting about how to get rid of a persuer on a train way too early in the morning on the way to Duesseldorf airport. Note to self: Sleep more, talk less. And thank you, Dae, for all your input!  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
  
  
Sarah MacKenzie stormed into her office in a fit of fury. Reaching her desk, she picked up the first object that seemed heavy enough to vent some of her negative energy and hurled it into the general direction of the door. She waited for the thud it would produce when connecting with either the door, the floor or any innocent bystander, but nothing came.   
  
  
  
Swirling around in frustration, her face came into contact with a uniform clad chest. She fought her immediate reflex to deck the person when his familiar scent invaded her nostrils. Why did he have to be one of them? One of those males... Arrogant, cocky and annoying. And still he was her best friend, but did that really count as an excuse for being male?  
  
  
  
She felt her chin being lifted by one of his fingers, until her eyes had no choice but to meet his.   
  
  
  
"You know, you could seriously hurt someone with this," he stated, raising a letter opener with his other hand.   
  
  
  
Her eyes widened slightly when she realized just what she had catapulted across the room.   
  
  
  
"Well, I wasn't expecting anyone to be stupid enough to actually follow me," she snapped. "What are you doing here anyway?"  
  
  
  
"I was wondering if you'd like to talk about what's bothering you, Mac." Worry was written all over his face.  
  
  
  
"Not really," Mac sighed, already knowing that he would not let her escape that easily.   
  
  
  
"Ma-ac," was all he had say before she raised her arms in a gesture of silent surrender.   
  
  
  
"It's killing me," she growled, "I am *this* close to finishing him off."  
  
  
  
"Him?" Harm asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.   
  
  
  
"Brumby, or as you so very well put it: Bugme," she sighed.  
  
  
  
"He is courting you, Mac," Harm tried to explain, feeling relied wash over him as he noticed that she did not seem to be interested at all in the obnoxious Australian.   
  
  
  
"He is trying to bed me, Harm," Mac spat, "and he isn't even subtle about it. I mean, he keeps asking me out to dinner, innocently brushing his hand across mine or the side of my breast whenever he gets a chance. Of course, I have no choice but to gulp it all down and tell him no over and over again, but I simply can't stand it anymore. I feel like a piece of meat, some grand prize," she babbled, her voice turning more and more into that of a wailing child.   
  
  
  
Harm grasped both her hands into his, leading her backwards until she had reached a chair which he placed her in. Turning around, he quickly made his way to the door to close it, then proceeding to the blinds. When he had made certain that no prying eyes and ears could witness their conversation, he kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in his again. With a gentle squeaze of reassurement, he began to speak:  
  
  
  
"Mac, there has to be some way to tell him in no uncertain terms that you aren't interested in his antics."  
  
  
  
She interrupted him, "You mean, tell him *no* time and again? Been there, done that."  
  
  
  
"I mean something more drastic," Harm smiled mischievously.   
  
"Do tell," Mac urged him on.  
  
  
  
Gesturing wildly, Harm began to relay his plan to her.   
  
  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
JAG Headquarters  
  
Falls Church, Virginia  
  
Next Morning  
  
  
  
Mac was strolling into her office with a broad smile on her face. If Harm's plan was going to work she would get rid of a certain cocky Australian for all times, which could only be a good thing. But the plan itself was risky and Mac was not sure what it would bring for her relationship to her best friend.   
  
  
  
Just then Harm chose to stick his head into her office carefully, ready to duck from any flying objects that might come this way. As he saw her friendly mood, he winked at her. "Morning, Mac," he grinned, "You ready to to get the show on the road?"  
  
  
  
She returned his smile, "Where should we start?"  
  
  
  
"Break room. Let's get some coffee."  
  
  
  
Following him out, she noticed with a smile that he slowed until she was walking next to him, strategically placing a hand on the small of her back. She could feel Mic's eyes on them, burning through Harm's hand. From the corner of her eyes she noticed him rising and following them with a little distance. Harm smiled at her reassuringly, guiding her into the break room.   
  
  
  
When they busied themselves with pouring some coffee they always kept some sort of physical contact with each other. Finally, Mac grabbed the two mugs, well aware that Harm was looking over her shoulder, his body molded to hers.   
  
  
  
He stepped away just enough to let her turn around, which she did. Handing him his mug, she smiled up at Harm. It was so easy to get lost in that blue orbs of his, Mac once again realised.   
  
  
  
His hand reached up to cup her cheek, then wandering lightly across her face to wipe a small drop of the brown liquid from the corner of her mouth. May had to repress the small gasp that threatened to escape her throat.   
  
Wasn't this what the grand plan had been all about? Making her unavailable for Mic and ever other male being in her vicinity? Maybe not EVERY other male, she tried to convince herself.  
  
  
  
"Harm," she whispered, as his head closed in on hers, coming dangerously close, too close.  
  
  
  
He stopped at her whisper, his lips almost touching hers. He flashed her one of his trademark grins that never failed to make her legs wobble. "Later," he stated, loud enough for anyone else, namely Mic, in the room to hear.   
  
  
  
"Lunch," she smiled against his lips, that seemed to be still coming closer, developing a life of their own.  
  
  
  
"Dinner," he added, without any hesistation.  
  
  
  
Mac automaticaaly closed in on him, letting her body brush against his, yet never moving her lips from almost touching his. At his groan, she bent slightly, whispering "Breakfast" into his ear.   
  
  
  
Before he could react, she brushed past him, coffee in hand, never acknoledging Mic as she walked past him and out of the door.   
  
  
  
Harm slowly turned around, meeting Mic's eyes. He made sure that the Australian understood his claim. Mac was his girl and Mic was to bugger off and and leave his girl alone. Mic bent his head slightly, in reply, acknowledging him.  
  
  
  
Mac's Apartment  
  
19:00 EST   
  
One week later  
  
  
  
The week had passed without much of an advance by Mic, who had seemingly accepted that she was off the market. But with Mic out of the way for the moment, Mac saw herself faced with an even bigger problem. If she and Harm stopped pretending, Mic would be at her throat in a matter of hours and if they did not the line between pretending and actually feeling would blur even more than it already had. The last week she had experienced how it would be like to be loved by Harmon Rabb. He was tending to her every need, getting her the morning coffee the way she liked it, taking her out to lunch every day and more importantly, she felt safe with him.   
  
  
  
Never really a person to trust men fully after her relationship with Chris, she felt herself falling fast for the handsome aviator. Not that she hadn't been in love with him before, but her feelings had been tucked away safely into the back of her heart. She did not indulge in them, did not allow herself to.   
  
  
  
By now, she had to remind herself every second that the touches, the smiles, even the chaste kisses he stole once in a while were part of a ploy to get rid of Mic. For him she was nothing but a friend her was helping out, a damsel in distress.   
  
  
  
But how would she succeed in getting out of this spiral? It had catastrophy written all over it. Sooner or later the Admiral would confront them, or worse, sooner or later she could blur her feelings out in a moment of weakness.   
  
  
  
It was a tough choice. Mic or Harm. Would she want to stop pretending with him and appear single again with Mic on her scent, or would she stay happy? She realized, with a start that apart from the relationship being fake, she really was happier than ever before. Fact was, she wanted it to be true.   
  
  
  
A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. Harm, she gathered. Who else could it be? Opening the door, she smiled at him, as he scooped her into his arms and gave her a light peck on the mouth, only to return to her lips again for a more thorough duel.   
  
  
  
Setting her down again, he grinned sheepishly. "Hey."  
  
  
  
Returning his smile, she answered, "Hey," gesturing for him to enter.   
  
  
  
He brushed past her, helping himself with two bottles of water from her fridge. Handing her one, he flopped down onto her couch, his eyes asking her to join him. As soon as she sat, he faced her, his expression unreadable.  
  
  
  
"It worked, didn't it?" he asked and at her nod carried on. "I've been giving this a lot of thought. It's a one-way-street, isn't it?"  
  
  
  
She nodded again, as he voiced her thoughts.   
  
  
  
"So as soon as I am going to back down again, he is going to be there. My brilliant plan wasn't really as brilliant, after all, was it?"  
  
  
  
Mac sighed, "I pretty much came to the conclusion, and I don't have a solution." Her shoulders slumped in defeat.  
  
  
  
On instict that came with the events of the past week, Harm immediately embraced her, his hand running soothingly across her back. Just as naturally, Mac molded into his arms, drawing comfort and strength from him.   
  
  
  
"Do you want us to stop, Mac?" He finally asked, never breaking the pattern of soothing circles, he drew onto her back.   
  
  
  
Mac buried her face into his neck, inhaling his scent while nuzzling her nose into him. She did not answer him, she could not. Even if she wanted to, she did not know what to answer.   
  
  
  
So, he carried on, "I don't want to go back to the way things were. I don't know what I want anymore, really. This is confusing me, but at the same time I like to be confused when it means I can hold you," he turned his head just enough to place a kiss onto her forehead, "and kiss you," he added with a grin.  
  
  
  
Mac drew back a little. "I am not sure this whole thing is a good idea."  
  
Harm immediately sobered. "You mean the idea of the two of us together?" Harm disentangled himself from her and started to pace the room. "Okay, you don't want me, you don't want me. Maybe you're right. If you aren't ready for a commitment, and that's what it would be, from my side at least... if you're not ready for a commitment then we should forget about it all," he rambled, grabbing his jacket.   
  
Before she had a chance to answer him, he held up his hand, "No, Mac, I understand. I was a convenient way to get rid of Brumby. I understand, really. See you at work, Colonel."  
  
Mac only stared at the door that slowly shut behind him, trying to understand what the heck had just happened. Wasn't he the one supposed to be the relationship-phobic? Why was he so quick to give up without even listening to her? Of course, he had misunderstood her once again. He hadn't even let her explain what she meant. Men. She sighed aloud, repressing the urge to run after him and knock some sense into his impatient, clueless mind.   
  
But that wouldn't work. Why couldn't he just listen once without drawing the wrong conclusions prematurely? How could she make sure he would understand once and for all that her doubts were not at all about them being together, but about the pretending part, her fears that his confusions had nothing to do with having feelings for her. There was so much they needed to make sure before she could dare to make the big step that a relationship with Harm meant.   
  
But how would she be able to tell him all that without him running away as soon as she mentioned doubts. Harmon Rabb had run quickly and Mac wasn't even sure why he had. Had he been afraid of her explanations? What exactly was he afraid of? She was pretty sure that it would take some persuasion to get him to talk.  
  
Sighing, Mac grabbed her keys and jacket and walked out of the door, trying to find the stubborn pigheaded sailor.   
  
~*~  
  
His car was still parking in front of her apartment, his slumped form visible from the doorway. Mac watched him for a moment, not sure how to interpret his posture. He seemed really upset about what had transpired. Not mad or furious, but sad and somehow his gestures had something of a small puppy that had just been told off. Harmon Rabb seemed to be pouting.   
  
Slowly, Mac made her way to the passenger side, carefully trying to keep out of his vista. When she opened the door and slid in beside her, she expected him to flinch or at least to show any reaction to someone entering the car. But he remained motionless, staring straight ahead into the darkening alley.  
  
She slowly leaned over towards him, taking his hand into hers. "Harm," she whispered.   
  
"You should go, Mac," was his answer.  
  
"No, I won't. Not until you hear me out," she challenged.   
  
"If that's so, maybe I should leave," he said bitterly, trying to free his hand without any success. Mac wouldn't let loose.   
  
"Harm, you can't tell me that you don't have doubts," Mac tried, still clasping his hand. When he did not show any reaction, she carried on. "I can tell you about mine, though. I am afraid, Harm. Afraid that your confusion as you call it has nothing to do with feelings for me. I am afraid that you will one day wake up and realize that what you thought you felt was an illusion, a fidget of your imagination. I am afraid that I am going to lose myself in you, in a relationship with you and that you are going to leave me, break up with me and that I will be all alone again. Harm, it's not easy for me to open up. Do you have any idea how bad the temptation to drink can be sometimes? I am afraid that if you leave me, if anything will happen to you... it would make me lose that little bit of contral that usually keeps me from falling off the wagon," she rambled, spilling all her insecurities to him.   
  
Forcing herself to shut up, she waited for any kind of reaction from him.   
  
After a while, he slowly turned, his gaze still haunted. "You're saying that you don't want to be with me because you're afraid that I am going to leave you? That my feelings aren't true?"  
  
"Yes," she answered, glad that he had finally understood her.   
  
"Sheesh, Mac," Harm shook his head, searching for something in his pocket.   
  
Mac looked at him, not sure what was to expect. After he had found what he was looking for, he turned back to her. "Mac, would you please let go of my other hand for a moment?" he smiled.  
  
Doing as he asked, Mac wondered why Harm left the car. Maybe he had to get some fresh air to think clearly. She heard him softly debating with himself, without being able to understand the individual words.   
  
She decided to watch his back that was leaning against the side of the car. Lost in her own thoughts she was startled when his hand reached through the window and held something to her. "Here," he stated, waiting for her to take it.   
  
Grabbing the object, Mac recognized his cell phone, her brows furrowing in confusion. Deciding to see if anyone was on the other line, Mac tried: "Hello?"  
  
"Sarah, right?" A voice could be heard.  
  
"Yes?" Mac answered, hesistantly. It was definitely a female talking to her. "May I ask who you are?"  
  
"Sure you may, Sarah. My name is Sarah as well, Sarah Rabb. But you can call me Grams."   
  
"Nice to talk to you," Mac managed, confused by Harm's action.  
  
Sarah Rabb came right to the point after the pleasantries had been exchanged. "My grandson told me to rely to you what I've told him a long time ago and time and again since that moment."  
  
"He has?" Mac asked, still doubting the reality of the situation she found herself in.  
  
"He has. Listen, honey, a long time ago, right after the two of you met he started telling me about you. And he hasn't stopped since. It's always Mac this, Mac that. It can be tiering at times, I tell you. But from the moment I saw the look in his eyes I knew he had it bad. So you'd better start believing that he's there to stay, or I will personally kick his behind off this planet."  
  
"I will be more than happy to help should it ever come to that," Mac offered, already liking the old lady.   
  
"I am sure you will, darling," Grams replied. "Now take that grandson of mine off the market, will you? Or do I have to tell Trish to call you and tell her how she came to the conclusion that Harm fell for you?"  
  
"That won't be necessary, Grams," Mac quickly uttered.   
  
"Good," could be heard. "Now I want you to grab that stubborn sailor of yours and keep him. And I expect to see you two soon, no excuses."  
  
"Aye, ma'am." Mac replied, sitting a little bit straighter in her seat, as she bid Sarah Rabb goodbye.   
  
As soon as she had disconnected the call, her eyes fell upon Harm, who was leaning into the car, watching her. "So? Believe me now?"  
  
"Smooth, Rabb," she smiled, "really smooth. Do you always have your Grandma do all the talking for you?"   
  
"It was a first. If it worked I might do it again some time. What do you think, would it look strange if I had her kneel down in front of you and ask you to marry me?"  
  
"It would be creative, that's for sure, but are you sure she would be able to stay in that position the time it takes me to throttle you and bury the remains?"  
  
"Probably not," Harm pondered. "So, you're basically telling me that I'd better not ask you to be my wife?"   
  
"You got it, Harm. You'd better take your time with that one. No asking me tomorrow, or in a week or month. If you ever ask me it'd better be you asking the question, not your grandma. For now I'd say we stop pretending and start to act on whatever that is we discovered."  
  
  
  
"Act? Pretend?" Harm pondered. "I don't think there is ever such thing as pretending around you."  
  
  
  
"Flattery, Rabb? And next you're going to tell me that I have beautiful eyes and lips that beg to be kissed, right?"   
  
"I was actually planning on kissing you without any further flattery, but if you want me to..." Harm opened the door and slipped into the seat, closing in on her until their lips were mere inches apart. "Mac, you have beautiful eyes, and... your lips beg to be kissed," he immitated her voice, trying his best to keep a straight face.   
  
"Say that again and sound as if you mean it," Mac challenged.  
  
  
  
"Shh, don't spoil it, Marine," he grinned, as he captured his lips with hers. After a moment, she drew away again, regarding him sternly.   
  
  
  
Opening one eye, he frowned at her, "Aren't you supposed to be here?" he asked sternly.  
  
  
  
"Where?" she smiled.  
  
  
  
Bringing his hands up to cradle her face, he drew her closer until their lips barely touched. "Here," he insisted.  
  
  
  
She shook her head slightly, "No, but I can show you," she smiled wickedly; as she parted his lips and let all the passion she felt flow into one kiss.   
  
  
  
When they broke apart for air, he smiled at her, "I like the way you think, Marine," before closing the distance between them again.   
  
  
  
"Thought so," she murmured against his lips before all thoughts left her.  
  
  
  
::THE END:: 


End file.
